


Where Does it Hurt?

by yellowpaintpots



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26052730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowpaintpots/pseuds/yellowpaintpots
Summary: Charlie struggles to answer where it hurts. Because what doesn't hurt?AKA Charlie is dealing with grief and he isn't doing so well.
Relationships: Charlie St. George/Alex Standall
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Where Does it Hurt?

**Author's Note:**

> I will apologise in advance also I'm sorry if it made no sense I'm tired but I Needed this

**Where does it hurt?**

It's a simple question, really. Something that for most would probably be easy to answer. Charlie can't find it in himself to answer it though. He looks down at his hands, turning them over and inspecting them. There are scratches on his knuckles that stand out against the dull, fading red of the bruises.

He looks in the mirror. His usually bright eyes are dull, the sparkle replaced by the glassy shine of tears that stopped falling at some point. There are dried tracks on his cheeks that he half-hearted rubs away. He ignores the dark, bruise like bags under his eyes.

He sighs and walks out of the bathroom, ignoring the worried look from his dad as he makes his way to his room. He appreciates the space his dad is giving him but does nothing to show it.

Charlie closes his bedroom door behind him and leans against it for a minute, just looking around. Everything looks dull, as if the colour was slowly being pulled out. He gives another sigh, this one shakier as he falls down onto his bed, ready for another sleepless night.

**Where does it hurt?**

School isn't easy. It never was to begin with, but it's so much harder now. The team doesn't push him, treating him like he's made of cracking glass and covered in 'FRAGILE' tape. He wants to argue that he's not going to break but every time he tries to speak he feels the words die on his tongue.

His grades aren't any better. They rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and— He ignores the looks his classmates and teachers give him as he tears up another piece of paper. He knows people stare and whisper as he walks through the halls, but he's leaned to ignore it.

**Where does it hurt?**

Carolyn greets him at the door with a small smile but Charlie recognises that same tired and empty look in her eyes that he could see in his own. Bill's are the same and Charlie feels a pang of something other than numbness when he sees the Deputy sitting at the kitchen table.

"Would you like a drink, dear?" Carolyn asks, busying herself with some glasses while looking over at her husband with worry.

Bill stares down at the table. Charlie shakes his head.

"No thank you, Mrs Standall," He declines.

Carolyn makes herself a drink and replaces Bill's still full mug of abandoned coffee with a glass of water. She looks at Charlie and sighs softly, "Oh, Charlie..."

Charlie fights off the urge to cry, ignoring the stinging of tears in his eyes. He wraps his arms around himself. "Can I..." He starts, and then there it is. The burning in his throat and suddenly he's crying, his shoulders shaking and his voice coming out stuttery. "Can— This is probably... I—"

Carolyn walks over and wraps her arms around Charlie, gently holding him and rubbing his back, whispering words of comfort as he cries. It takes a while for him to calm down enough to talk again.

"Can I stay in his room tonight? If that isn't too much to ask..."

Carolyn looks over at Bill, who's finally paying attention again. Two two nod and Carolyn turns back to Charlie. "Of course you can, dear."

**Where does it hurt?**

The room is quiet. Untouched. Everything is still just as it had been when Charlie was last here. He takes a deep breath and shuts the door before walking around the room, touching different objects gently. One of Alex's jackets is still on his bed and Charlie picks it up and holds it close.

It still smells like him.

Charlie sits down on the bed and keeps the jacket close to his face, closing his eyes. He manages to hold himself together for a little under a minute before breaking down in tears again, laying down and curling up on his side, keeping the jacket close.

**Where does it hurt?**

Charlie thinks about it. Where doesn't it hurt? That'd probably be a better question. His limbs feel heavy and sore as if they've had weights attached to them, forced to drag them around. His eyes and throat sting and burn from crying and yelling. His head aches with a dull throbbing that he does his best to block out. Somehow everything hurts.

**But where does it hurt the most?**

He rolls over and sighs, still clutching the jacket. He doesn't know. Everywhere. Everything feels bad. Wrong.

**Charlie. Answer the question.**

He sits up and groans, raking his fingers through his hair. "I don't fucking _know_ ," He says out loud, the curse feeling wrong on his lips. "I don't know where it hurts. It just _hurts_!"

The anger dies down, replaced by the familiar sad numbness he'd grown used to.

**Where does it hurt?**

Charlie closes his eyes and pretends that Alex's arms are wrapped around him. If he tries hard enough he can almost feel it, the feather light touch around his waist and breath on his neck. He opens his eyes and there Alex is. He knows he's just imagining it, but that doesn't stop the small spark of joy it gives him.

" _Where does it hurt, Charlie_?" Alex asks quietly.

Charlie pauses before raising a hand and tapping his chest. Because that's where it hurts the most, right? The ache of his heart had been the root of all the other pain in a way. Alex seems satisfied with that answer and Charlie feels Alex's lips ghost across Charlie's cheek. Charlie blinks and Alex is gone.


End file.
